"The Owners' and Directors' Test examines reasons why an individual may be disqualified from becoming an owner or director of a club. This includes criminal convictions for various offenses, disqualification from sports or professional bodies, or specific breaches of football regulations such as match-fixing."
Helena continued reading from the screen.
"The test applies to prospective owners and directors and is reassessed every season. Detailed information about the test can be found in Section F of the Premier League Handbook. That's what's written on the Premier League website."
Having read this far, Helena opened another file.
"Here's Section F of the Premier League Handbook. It rambles on for six and a half pages with unnecessary details, but aside from the obvious rule that criminals are barred, the gist is that they decide at their discretion. There's even a clause: failure to provide requested information or providing false information can be grounds for disqualification."
Closing her laptop, Helena remarked incredulously, "Basically, if they don't like you, they'll find any excuse to kick you out. This isn't some social club."
Both Mike Garlick and John Banaszkiewicz flinched as if they'd been struck.
"Well, it's not quite that extreme…" Mike ventured.
"No, it's exactly that extreme," Helena countered. "Such broad and vague rules sound like they can do whatever they want. At this rate, they could even ask for a list of boyfriends I've had since I was 14 or the color of the underwear I'm wearing right now."
"Cough!"
Her blunt example nearly made both middle-aged men choke on their tea.
"They wouldn't go that far… The test has mostly been a formality. Of course, truly problematic individuals get filtered out, but I passed it too," Mike Garlick said, barely swallowing his tea.
Helena shook her head. "No, something feels off. It's the same feeling I had when I first submitted the mining closure application in Brazil, and the environmental agency suddenly summoned me to Brasília."
"What kind of feeling is that?" John Banaszkiewicz asked.
Helena furrowed her brow. "The feeling that I haven't done anything wrong, but I'm about to get royally screwed?"
"Why now, though?" Mike asked.
"Why now?" Helena echoed, puzzled.
After sorting through various forms and documents required for the test, Mike Garlick, thrown off by Helena's question, responded with one of his own.
"You said why now. The Cartwright Fund acquired Burnley Football Holdings in early August, right? But it's late September now. The handbook clearly states that a report must be submitted immediately if an owner goes bankrupt or ownership changes."
"Maybe they got tired of waiting for us to report it?" Mike suggested.
Helena shook her head. "No way. Burnley's ownership change was splashed all over the media. Surely the EPL office isn't so aloof that they don't even read the news?"
"Of course not," Mike Garlick replied with a smirk.
"Then why now? Today's September 20th. The acquisition finalized on August 5th and was immediately publicized. That's almost a month and a half ago."
"Uh…"
Mike Garlick and John Banaszkiewicz exchanged uncertain glances.
Helena, who'd been racking her brain, suddenly looked up. "You two have contacts at the Premier League office, right?"
John Banaszkiewicz answered, "We do, depending on what you need."
"It's nothing big. Just call them, ask how they're doing, and find out what's been the noisiest or most troublesome issue at the office lately."
"The noisiest or most troublesome issue?" John asked, puzzled.
Helena waved it off casually. "Oh, I just want to check something."
Tilting his head at her request, John picked up his phone and stepped out of the meeting room.
About ten minutes later, he returned, shaking his head.
"What'd they say?" Helena asked.
"Nothing much. Just some nonsense about budgets and COVID. They're busy because of Newcastle," John replied.
"Newcastle? What's up with Newcastle?" Helena pressed.
"Uh, the Newcastle takeover, obviously," Mike Garlick answered nonchalantly.
"Newcastle's being taken over?"
"Last year, a consortium led by Saudi Arabia's sovereign wealth fund, PIF, applied to buy Newcastle but got rejected. Parliament and the Premier League office kicked up a fuss over Saudi Arabia's human rights issues and illegal broadcasting. But they've submitted another application recently—"
Mike Garlick stopped mid-sentence.
All three of them simultaneously realized the connection and locked eyes.
"Oh, damn it," Helena blurted out, unable to hold back her curse.
---
It was clear that the Premier League office had requested Burnley's Owners' and Directors' Test because of the PIF consortium.
But why now, and with what intent they'd issued the summons, remained a mystery.
Helena, Mike Garlick, and John Banaszkiewicz all agreed that this wasn't just a belated administrative catch-up on Burnley's ownership change from a month and a half ago.
As Mike and John spun wild theories, Helena—frustrated by the absolute lack of information—held her head in her hands. Suddenly, John's phone began to buzz.
He ignored it at first, but when it kept ringing incessantly, John, with a slightly annoyed look on his usually genial face, stepped into a corner of the meeting room to take the call.
Meanwhile, Helena turned to Mike. "No matter how I think about it, it doesn't feel like the Premier League office has good intentions toward us."
"Uh… maybe… but why would they have any reason to antagonize us?" Mike replied hesitantly.
"It might not be about our situation but theirs. Right now, we just don't have enough information. We need to dig deeper and gather more details."
Mike furrowed his brow at Helena's firm statement. "But they're not going to just tell us if we ask the Premier League office directly."
"Asking officially would be tough, sure. But couldn't you or John check informally?"
"Hmm, simple stuff we could ask right away, but… if the Premier League office is targeting us for something, no one close enough would spill that kind of detail. We'd need to find reliable contacts through other trusted people and approach it that way, but that would take—"
"Time we don't have," Helena finished.
The Owners' and Directors' Test demanded by the Premier League office was scheduled for this Thursday—just three days away.
"Then we'll need to find someone else who'd know," Helena said.
"Someone who'd know? Who's that?" Mike asked.
"Someone who's at odds with the Premier League office or would want to help us. The first that comes to mind is the PIF consortium. Who's their representative?"
"Hmm… the consortium's head is Yasir Al-Rumayyan, PIF's CEO," Mike replied.
"Yasir Al-Rumayyan, PIF's CEO? I could probably reach him directly through my father," Helena said.
Mike Garlick stared, dumbfounded, at his young colleague casually suggesting she could summon the head of one of the world's largest sovereign wealth funds, managing $620 billion in assets.
"Uh… but he's not directly involved in the takeover. The operational lead is probably Amanda Staveley."
"Amanda Staveley? Do you know her?"
"Not personally, but I could find a way to contact her."
"Wouldn't it be faster to go through Yasir Al-Rumayyan?"
As Helena reached into her jacket pocket for her phone, another voice interrupted their conversation.
"No need for that."
John Banaszkiewicz had returned from his call.
Looking flustered, he relayed the news to Helena and Mike. "It's a contact connected to the PIF consortium… Amanda Staveley wants to meet us."
"…Us?" Helena asked.
All three struggled to hide their bewilderment as Helena pressed, "Specifically, she wants to meet someone from Burnley who can make final decisions."
Mike Garlick and John Banaszkiewicz both turned to Helena.
She nodded slowly. "Where and when?"
"As soon as possible—before the Premier League office's test. The location is the PIF consortium's temporary headquarters in London."
"Got it. Then I'll head to London."
"When are you leaving?" Mike asked at Helena's declaration.
"Right now."
---
The distance from Burnley to London is roughly 230 miles.
Walking nonstop, it'd take about 67 hours—slightly over two and a half days.
Naturally, this isn't the Stone Age, so Helena headed to Manchester Airport, took a one-hour flight to London Heathrow, and arrived at the PIF consortium's temporary headquarters in the City of London—once the heart of the world's financial industry—before afternoon tea time.
Of course, Helena didn't waste her travel time.
Though it was too short-notice to task the Cartwright Fund's research team, she scoured every article and document about Newcastle United's takeover and the PIF consortium—on the plane to Heathrow and on the Heathrow Express into central London.
When the Saudi sovereign wealth fund PIF formed a consortium with British businesspeople and financiers to acquire Newcastle United Football Club, opinions on their motives varied widely.
Some saw it as a straightforward financial investment riding the Premier League's growth.
Others viewed it as an attempt to divert international attention from Saudi Arabia's human rights issues through cultural engagement in football.
There was a theory of a pride-fueled rivalry, aiming to outshine Manchester City, owned by Abu Dhabi of the allied UAE, a neighboring country.
Another suggested it was a bid to overshadow Qatar, a regional rival set to host the first World Cup in the Arab world, with other football news.
Regardless of why PIF was involved in the Newcastle takeover, one thing everyone agreed on was this: the linchpin of the consortium was Amanda Staveley, a British financier who, alongside her husband, held a 10% stake.